


Light Me Up and Let Me Burn

by milou407



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hickies, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milou407/pseuds/milou407
Summary: It was supposed to be two friends fulfilling a mutual need, nothing more. Simple, uncomplicated, and other similar adjectives. What it ended up being was two guys yelling at each other outside of a bar, one of them with no shirt, the other with no pants.Well.Fuck.





	Light Me Up and Let Me Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Hey Violet's "Break My Heart"

Feuilly had known Bahorel for about five years before it started. They were friends before it, 'bros' even. And really, it was never supposed to get complicated. It was just one bro helping another out. The pinnacle of bro-hood, you could say. Feuilly wouldn't, because he had never actually used the word 'bro' out loud in his life, but maybe Bahorel would have. 

Anyway. 

It was supposed to be two friends fulfilling a mutual need, nothing more. Simple, uncomplicated, and other similar adjectives. What it ended up being was two guys yelling at each other outside of a bar, one of them with no shirt, the other with no pants. 

Well. 

Fuck. 

Okay, it actually started one Friday night after a particularly long week. The usual suspects had taken over the Musain, spreading out among various tables and bar stools. Feuilly was sitting at the bar, nursing a beer, and debating whether or not to pick up takeout on the way home. Mostly he was trying to remember the contents of his fridge when Bahorel slammed into the bar next to him, already most of the way to completely fucked. 

"Feuilly!" Bahorel dragged out his name, making it at least two syllables longer than normal, and Feuilly bit down on a smile. Yeah, he might be over six feet tall and made of muscle, but Bahorel was fucking adorable when he was drunk. "My dude, my _guy_! Where have you been? We haven't seen you all week! We missed you, dude, _I_ missed you." 

Feuilly chuckled and patted Bahorel's arm. "Sorry, Baz. One of the guys at the auto shop got sick, so I've been picking up his shifts. It should be back to normal soon." 

Bahorel pouted at him, which really shouldn't be so cute on a twenty-eight year old. "That fucking sucks, man." He suddenly started giggling, and said, "you know what else sucks?" 

"What?" 

"Me, if you play your cards right." Baz descended into giggles on the bar, and Feuilly rolled his eyes. Clearly Bahorel was a little further along than he had thought. He put some money down on the bar and moved to help Baz upstairs, to his conveniently located apartment. "God, I need to get fucking laid." 

"Join the club," Feu muttered, distracted by trying to successfully maneuver two tall humans while one of them was unable to control his limbs. Bahorel gasped, flailed, and tried to look scandalized, but really only succeeded in looking delighted and vaguely confused. 

"Why, Mr. Feuilly, have you also not been getting any? Why didn't I know?" 

"Because unlike you, I tend to keep my private life quiet." Feuilly rolled his eyes and then focused on the next challenge: stairs. 

"No, okay, but Feu, _listen_." Bahorel was surprisingly helpful with the stairs, but pulled Feuilly to a stop outside his apartment. "Feu, Feuilly, Feuella DeVil-" 

"I don't even like Dalmatians-" 

"That's a fucking lie, you're a sucker for all puppies and you know it." Baz paused to regain his point, "Wait, yes, okay. My friend, I have a solution to both of our problems. I'm hot-" 

Feuilly snorted, "Good to see your ego is still around." 

"Hush. I'm hot, _you're_ hot-" Feu choked on nothing- "And neither of us is having sex. We should have sex together! As friends!" He opened his arms wide and grinned at Feuilly. 

Feuilly gaped at Bahorel for a solid second before rolling his eyes again and shoving open his front door. He forced Baz onto the couch and got him a glass of water. 

"We're not having sex tonight, you're too drunk."

“Aw, baby, don't be like that." Baz made a kissy face at him. "I'd still respect you in the morning." 

"I'll be surprised if you can still remember this in the morning," Feu called as he left. "Don't die." 

He locked the door behind him and hid the key again before heading home. 

(He did end up getting take out on the way home. He ate it and then tried to sleep in a bed that suddenly felt too big. Which it definitely wasn't.)

\-----

The next morning, Feuilly was woken at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning by his phone's text alert. 

_Baz 'Meme Lord' Bahorel: im dyinggggg feuillly_  
feuilly wake up   
feu you need to buy me coffee im so hungover help pls 

Feu snorted and squinted at the screen to type out a reply. 

_Me: I'm fairly certain you should be buying me coffee for making sure your drunk ass got home okay. And for waking me up early on my day off._

There was a pause as the little bubble went through its three dots. Feuilly could almost see Bahorel consciously not be a dick. 

_Baz 'Meme Lord' Bahorel: fine, but ur meeting me at the cafe by me cuz I don't want to walk._

_Me: I accept your terms._

Feuilly sent off his reply and then groaned because this now meant he had to wear pants. Fuck Bahorel and his hangover. 

(Still worth it though.) 

\------ 

When Feuilly walked into the café a half hour later, it wasn't difficult to find Bahorel amongst the other patrons. (His turquoise hair and pizza cat sweater made him hard to miss.) When Feu flopped down into the chair across from him, grabbing at the waiting coffee, Baz looked up from his phone with a bright smile. "Hey there," he said, "look at you up before eleven on a day off." 

Feu sent him a weak glare over the edge of his cup. "That's just cause your hungover ass decided you needed company," Feuilly grumbled into his coffee. "What's the occasion? Usually you just sleep the whole day and we get food later." 

Bahorel started making very intense eye contact with the table. "Do I need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to see my best friend." He shot Feuilly a painfully sweet grin that made Feu's chest clench. Feu nodded and stared at that smile for a second before going back to his coffee. 

After about a minute of comfortable silence, Bahorel cleared his throat. "So, you know how drunk me has a very selective memory?" 

Feuilly's stomach dropped. "Yeah?" 

"Well, I don't actually remember leaving the bar. But I pretty distinctly remember you turning me down for sex." He met Feuilly's eyes with a sly smile. "And I gotta say, man, I'm pretty offended. I mean, have you seen me?" He made a sweeping hand gesture and settled back in his chair. "Who wouldn't want this?" 

Feu rolled his eyes, "I said no ‘cause you were drunk off your ass, you dick. And you were making fun of me." 

"I wasn't making fun, I was dead serious." Bahorel leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table before continuing, "Neither of us are with anyone right now, and we're both attractive guys. We're friends, why not try it out?" 

Feuilly's mouth was suddenly very dry. This was a bad idea. "As- as friends?"

"Yeah, dude. Friends with benefits, it's a thing." Baz's head was tilted to the side, his face open and a little curious. "I'm not gonna pressure you into anything, but it's an offer, if you want it." 

Feuilly knew the feelings-type crush-love-thing he had been feeling for Bahorel for a while would come back to bite him in the ass. And yeah, it sucked sometimes that Baz had never reached out for something more, that based on past experience, he didn't seem to want a committed relationship at all, but Feuilly was a big boy, he could handle it. And he loved being Baz's best friend, no matter what. So, the sane thing to do would be to say no thanks. To steer clear of this obvious mistake before it blew up in their faces and ruined the best thing in Feuilly's life. Feuilly opened his mouth to do the sane thing.

\-----

Bahorel's door made a very satisfying _thud_ when Feuilly pressed Baz up against it and kissed him aggressively. His hands were tangled in Baz's hair, and Baz's were on his ass. Tugging at his hair produced a low sound Feuilly hadn't heard before, and he broke their kiss to bite at Baz's jaw.

"So, we're doing this?" Bahorel gasped, one hand sliding up the back of Feuilly's shirt to drag his nails lightly down Feu's back, making him hiss. 

"Oh, we're definitely doing this,” Feu responded before kissing him again, pulling him deeper into the apartment. He pushed Baz back toward the bedroom, both of them fumbling at their clothes, and almost tripping at least twice. Feuilly watched as Baz stripped his shirt off, making his back muscles flex, and almost whined. He followed, pulling off his shirt and shucking his jeans before getting caught by the heat in Bahorel’s gaze. 

“What?” he asked defensively, feeling himself blush under the weight of Baz’s stare. Baz met his eyes and smirked, stepping closer and pulling Feuilly in by his hips. 

“You’re just really hot, dude.”

Feu snorted. “You can’t call me ‘dude’ if we’re about to have sex.” 

“Watch me.” Bahorel’s grin widened, and he pushed Feu back against the wall before falling to his knees. “I’m gonna suck your dick now, dude.”

Choking on air, Feu leaned all his weight on the wall behind him, and watched Baz with wide eyes. He helped push his underwear down and stepped out of it, shivering when Bahorel started stroking him lightly.

“Knew you’d be gorgeous,” Baz said so softly, Feu thought he imagined it for a second. Then, he abruptly stopped thinking when Baz pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his dick. All the air left his lungs at once, and he threaded his fingers through Baz’s hair to steady himself. Bahorel made a little appreciative noise before leaning in to blow him more earnestly, steadying himself with a hand on Feu’s hip. He was very good at what he did, and he had Feuilly gasping and dropping his head back against the wall within minutes with that _thing_ that he did with his tongue. Feu moaned and tightened the hand he still had in Baz’s hair to pull him off, saying “Baz, _Jesus_ , I’m close, you gotta move.”

Baz pulled back with a smug smile and kissed Feu’s hipbone. “I’m right where I want to be,” he murmured before taking Feu deep and working the rest of his dick quickly with his hand. Feu gasped and came with a choked moan, bracing himself against the wall so he didn’t slump forward onto Baz. He stood with a satisfied grin and leant in for a kiss, stopping a few inches away. Feu whined impatiently and closed the distance, kissing him deeply before pushing him back toward the bed. 

Baz laughed as he bounced on the mattress, but was silenced by Feu climbing into his lap. He looked up at Feuilly with wide, dark eyes and leaned up for a kiss. Feu obliged, he took Baz’s face in his hands and pressed close, grinding their hips together to make Baz whine. He reached between them, undoing Baz’s sweats and helping him wriggle out of them. He raised an eyebrow at Baz’s lack of underwear and Baz shrugged a little.

“I was feeling pretty optimistic.”

“Clearly.” Feu got back in Baz’s lap and started jerking him oh so slowly, pressing his face into Bahorel’s neck, trying to commit everything to memory. “You went to the café like this? Already thinking about how you wanted to fuck me?” At Baz’s gasp, Feuilly grinned and nipped at his neck, drawing out another breathy gasp. “Or maybe about me fucking you? We could probably arrange that, you might just have to give me a few minutes.” Baz whined, and Feu chuckled lowly, speeding up his hand and tightening his grip, twisting his wrist at the top of the stroke to make Bahorel choke and moan. “Not today, I think. I don’t think you’re gonna last much longer, and I don’t want to tease you too much. Yet.” He leaned in and bit at the spot he had been worrying with his mouth, just at the juncture of Bahorel’s neck and shoulder. Baz whimpered, pulling Feu close by his ass and panting a little. Feu bit his lip and kissed just under Baz’s ear, he couldn’t believe that this was his _life_ , what was he doing? This was definitely a monumentally bad idea. But there was nothing in this world that could stop him from saying:

“Come on, Baz. Come for me.”

And he could _feel_ Bahorel tense underneath him as he came, shuddering and shouting before he fell backward onto the bed. Feeling very pleased with himself, Feuilly lifted himself off of Baz’s lap and flopped down on his back next to him. He brought his dirty hand up and looked at it for a second, before licking a smear of come off of his thumb. It tasted like come (as you’d expect), but it was well worth it for the look on Baz’s face, a dark and hungry expression that had him raising up on his forearms to kiss the ever-loving shit out of Feuilly. Feu yelped and kissed him back, tangling his hands in Bahorel’s hair again after wiping them somewhere on the sheet, drawing out that low, appreciative noise he had heard before. He pulled back a minute later, short of breath, and Baz moved back, that same, stupid, smug grin on his face. 

“See? Great idea.” He stretched and then relaxed back onto the mussed navy sheets. Feu watched his muscles tense and relax, and met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. I have all the best ideas and should never be doubted.” Baz shot him his too-bright smile. “I’m gonna grab a shower, but you can stay if you want. We can grab lunch later?” 

“Sure. I think I’m going to nap, though.”

“Kay.” Baz kissed Feuilly’s shoulder quickly and rolled out of bed. Feu watched him go, because how was he going to miss a chance to watch that ass walk away, and then turned over onto his stomach, snuggling into a pillow that smelled like Baz. Just for a minute or so. This was totally fine. 

(So why did he never want to leave?)

\----

The weird thing is that very little changed after that.

They were having pretty great sex on a fairly regular basis, but they were still hanging out like normal. Whenever they both had a free night, they’d go get drinks or out to a club, or sometimes just stay in and watch stupid movies and argue over video games. Feuilly _definitely_ preferred staying in to going out with Baz. And it wasn’t just about the money. 

Because although they were fucking, it didn’t mean that Baz was _his_. So, Feu watched as he danced with other people, hit on them or was chatted up himself, and on one memorable occasion, walked in on Bahorel and a short, blonde girl in the bar bathroom. And he couldn’t say anything, because he was _painfully_ aware that he didn’t have any real claim on Baz, that that wasn’t what their arrangement was, that Bahorel didn’t want a relationship. At least, not with Feuilly.

So that old, gnawing jealousy that Feuilly had gotten used to was still around, and still flared up every now and again. And, as always, he ignored it and tamped down the urge to say fuck it and confess everything. It wouldn’t help, and could only make everything worse. It was really fine, it was like nothing had changed. 

(Except now he knew what Baz looked like when he was fucked out and sleepy, and the _sounds_ he made when Feu pulled his hair or bit him. And that was somehow worse.)

_Anyway._

Feuilly knew he couldn’t keep up the façade of no-strings-attached forever, and the end of it could mostly be blamed on Enjolras wanting to help, as per usual. They were sitting in the Musain one night, the whole group together like old times, when Enjolras joined Feuilly at the table he was occupying.

“Well, you look upset,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Trouble in paradise?”

Feuilly frowned at him, “What? There’s no – paradise?”

“You and Bahorel? Is something wrong? I thought you two were happy, finally. Or, Grantaire says that Bahorel is happy, anyway.”

“You and your boyfriend need to stop gossiping about other peoples’ lives.” Feuilly drained his beer. “There’s no ‘me and Baz.’ Or, no more than we were before.”

“Yeah?” There’s no force in the world like Enjolras’ skeptical eyebrow. It has made lesser people quake in their boots. “Then why is he covered in hickies?”

Feuilly choked on his drink and looked over. Sure enough, the edge of the mark he had sucked into Bahorel’s neck earlier that day was peeking out the collar of his t-shirt. Feu flushed, partly with embarrassment, partly with pride. The feeling abruptly faded when he noticed another, older hickey on Baz’s hipbone, one he hadn’t put there. He cleared his throat and met Enjolras’ gaze head on.

“Not all my work.”

The steady stare melted into a more sympathetic expression, and Enjolras sighed, sinking more into his chair. “Have you talked to him about it? You’re clearly upset, and apparently communication solves a lot of problems.” 

“God bless Grantaire for teaching you about interpersonal communication.” Feuilly smiled ruefully at Enjolras’ low chuckle. “But I can’t. He doesn’t want the same things I do, and I don’t want him to feel pressured into anything. Everything is casual, that’s what Bahorel does. He doesn’t want a – a relationship, like I do. He’s made that very clear.”

“But that’s what you want? A real relationship?” At Feu’s _look_ Enjolras sat back, raising his hands in surrender. “All I’m saying is that you might have to start dating to find something like that.” 

Feu laughed with little amusement. “You’re probably right. The difficult part is finding someone who wants to date me.” 

There was a gleam in Enjolras’ eye that Feuilly didn’t like at all. “Let me set you up with someone. I know him from work, I think you’d really get along. If you don’t like him, you never have to see him again. But I think you would be a good fit for each other.”

Feuilly opened his mouth to refuse, and then his attention was caught again by movement at the corner of his eye. Bahorel was bending over a pool table, shirt riding up and exposing _that_ hickey again, marking him as Not Feuilly’s, _Never_ Feuilly’s. 

“Yeah, sure.” He said firmly, turning back to Enjolras. “Give me his number.”

\------

The date was… nice. 

Andre was indeed good looking, smart, and funny. He worked for the World Health Organization, and had done fascinating work in a number of countries. He also seemed genuinely interested in Feuilly and what he had to say. They had a nice dinner, and walked around the city for a bit.

But it wasn’t quite right. 

Much as he tried, Feuilly couldn’t shake the feeling that Andre was _wrong_. Feuilly shouldn’t have to look up to him, they should be on the same eye level. His hair should be teal, his eyes a warm brown instead of their actual hazel. It felt disingenuous to pretend, even if Andre was a really great guy. 

He told him so when Andre walked him home. Andre looked at him with sad, understanding eyes, and kissed him on the cheek before offering to get coffee sometime as friends. Feuilly agreed readily and hugged him before going inside. 

He stripped down and landed face first on his mattress, yelling into his pillow in frustration.

Fuck everything. 

\-----

Later that week, Enjolras cornered Feuilly as soon as he walked into the Musain and dragged him to a table, setting a beer in front of him. 

“Well? How did it go? I haven’t been able to reach Andre yet, but it couldn’t have gone too terribly.” 

Feuilly sighed and put his head down on the table. “It was fine, he’s very nice. We’re going to be friends, I think.”

“That’s it?” Enjolras poked him lightly in the shoulder. “All this trouble, and all I get is a ‘fine’?” 

“Yes, Enjolras.” He lifted his head to glare at his friend. “That’s all you get, ‘cause that’s all there was. I was too distracted because I kept thinking about – well, you know. It’s okay, I’ll get over him eventually. Until then, I’ll spare you the trouble and not date random men, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I suppose, if you think it’s best.” Enjolras settled back in his chair. “All I’m saying is that there are lots of men for you to date, or just make out with, if you so choose.”

“Who is Feuilly making out with?” Bahorel said, falling into the chair next to Feu with a confused grin on his face. 

Feuilly grumbled _no one_ at the same time that Enjolras said, “No one, but only because he’s stubborn and didn’t make a second date with a colleague of mine.” 

Feu levelled a glare (again) at Enjolras, and almost missed Bahorel’s stricken expression. “…You went on a date?” He said, unusually quiet. 

“Yes?” Feu met his eyes steadily, unwilling to be cowed, for some reason. “Is there something wrong with that?” 

“No! No, I mean, not necessarily. I guess I-“ Bahorel broke off, frowning at the top of the table. He stood and paced for a second before coming back to the table. “I’m sorry, Enj, but I just. Feu, can I talk to you alone? Upstairs?” 

Bahorel looked so earnest that Feuilly just nodded and stood, shaking his head at Enjolras when he opened his mouth to protest. He followed Baz up the stairs and into his apartment, gasping when he was pressed against the door and kissed thoroughly. He made a vague yelping noise before sinking into the kiss, and was quite a bit breathless when Bahorel pulled away. Baz watched him closely for a minute before nodding and turning to walk toward his bedroom, taking off his jeans as he went. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Feu breathed, pulling his shirt off before pausing. “Wait, no.” He stopped where he was and threw his shirt somewhere else. Bahorel turned around and watched him in confusion, in his stupid pun t-shirt and boxer-briefs. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Feu said, “Why does it bother you that I went out with someone?”

Bahorel scoffed. “It doesn’t bother me, what do you mean?”

“Don’t lie to me.” Feu rolled his eyes. “You’re being weird, and you were weird downstairs. What’s going on?”

Bahorel sighed, shifting his weight from side to side, “It’s just. I don’t know. It’s _wrong._ You and I are… doing this. It’s weird if you’re dating someone else, or whatever.” 

Feuilly laughed bitterly. “But it’s fine if you’re making out with people at clubs, if someone else is leaving marks on you? That’s fine, but God forbid I find someone who actually _likes_ me, and wants to date me?”

“Well, yeah. That stuff’s all casual, it’s not. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“And this does?” Feu threw his arms up in the air. “After all your talk about being ‘bros’ and just helping each other out, are you angry because I’m treating this like it’s casual? Like you do?”

“I mean.” Baz stared at him for a second. “Yeah, kind of. Casual is kind of my norm. You don’t _do_ casual. It’s not your thing. Everything means something for you. I thought this would too.”

Okay. 

Wow.

So, there are two things that not many people know about Feuilly. The first is that he has a temper. He’s worked really hard to control it, to not be too hotheaded or rash. But when he gets really pissed, he isn’t always rational. 

The second thing is that he can be a petty little shit sometimes. 

Which is why, after hearing Bahorel tell him he expected Feuilly to honor their arrangement while he went out and did what he wanted, Feuilly stared at him, mouth gaping, before grabbing his jeans off the floor and throwing them out the fucking window.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” Baz’s jaw dropped, and he ran over to the window and looked out. “Did you seriously just-“

“No, hold on a second.” Feuilly’s voice was low and deadly. “You don’t get to say anything right now.”

All Bahorel could do was stare.

“You don’t get to _take advantage_ of the fact that I care about the people I sleep with to lock down your own, private fuckbuddy,” Feu snarled. “You don’t want sex to mean anything, fine, but you don’t have the right to get upset when I start looking for something serious because, surprise, that’s what I really want. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want anything serious or long-term, but you don’t get to deny it to me too. So _fuck. You._ ” He glanced around for his shirt, decided to leave it, and stormed out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out the front of the Musain.

His chest was heaving as he leant against the brick wall outside the bar, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. The door slammed open a few feet away and Feuilly jumped, meeting Baz’s almost panicked gaze.

“Feuilly, thank fuck, wait-“

“What? What could you possibly want?” Feu stood up straight. “Congrats, you got what you wanted, right? And it’s not like I can date anyone anyway, not without seeing your stupid face or wishing you were there-”

“I didn’t want it to be casual!” Bahorel blurted out, arms waving as if to stop Feuilly from talking. “I’ve never wanted to be casual with you, but you never acted like you wanted anything with me, so I backed off.”

“I never wanted anything because you never showed any interest! I’ve never seen you date anyone for more than a month in my _life_ , and by the time I knew I was in love with you-“

“ _What?_ ” Baz’s question is quiet, but it cut through Feuilly’s shouting, and he fell silent. Baz’s eyes were big and wide. “You – you were what?”

Feu sighed. “In love with you. I’m in love with you. And I was a complete idiot, so _stupid_ to think I could have you and keep it simple. I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I just – I can’t anymore.”

“So, don’t.” Baz said quietly, but firmly. “Don’t just fuck around with me. Date me, you fucking idiot.”

Feu let out a shocked laugh, “You, _what?_ ”

“I didn’t date anyone, true, but that’s ‘cause I didn’t want to. Then I met you and you’re good and sweet and honest and like no one else I’ve ever met, and I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. But you didn’t ask, didn’t seem to look in my direction so I assumed you weren’t interested. Clearly, I was wrong, but I just need you to know that I _do_ , I want to date you so bad, and I’m so fucking in love with you.” Bahorel walked closer and ran his hands up Feuilly’s bare arms. Feu watched him, then had to swallow before he spoke. 

“You love me?” It came out breathy and weak and he doesn’t fucking care because if he just heard him correctly – 

“Yeah. I kinda really do.”

“Well, fuck.” Feu laughed again and pressed his forehead to Baz’s. “That solves a bunch of problems.”

“It really does.” Baz leaned in to kiss him sweetly, and it was probably their hundredth kiss, but it felt like their first all over again. 

“No one’s allowed to date you, except for me.” Feu rumbled, spreading his hands over Baz’s hips. “And no more hickies that aren’t from me.”

“Deal.” Baz kissed him quickly. “I’m all yours, Feu.” 

Feuilly shivered and dragged Bahorel back upstairs by his hand, past all their friends, Baz laughing all the way and crowing about his new boyfriend. They completely forgot about his pants, and they remained on the sidewalk for a while longer. 

(Later, Feuilly rode Bahorel slowly, feeling every movement and twitch as he worked himself on his dick. He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, kissing him quickly. 

“Love you,” he said, gasping when Baz managed to hit his prostate directly.

“You too, God, so much,” Bahorel panted, fingers digging into his thighs. “Please, Feu, come on, I’m so close.”

Feu just grinned wickedly.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
